Age of the Dragon 3: The Eye of the Storm

Chapter 8

Fallyn carefully unwrapped the sheath that had been carefully hidden away for almost a century. Besides her mother's body, this weapon had been the only thing Fallyn had been able to reclaim from the Foresworn. She'd maimed one of them while making her escape, using the very blade.

The red diamond set into the pommel gleamed with an almost hungry light. Set into the scabbard - which was decorated with vines and flowers that likely existed aeons ago, as Fallyn had never seen their like before - was the rune for "fate" which was the name of the black blade.

Drawing the blade, Fallyn tested its balance and sharpness, pleased to see that neither had been affected by time.

She sensed when Saphira and Eragon arrived and sheathed the blade almost reluctantly. Stepping out, she saw Eragon eagerly waiting for her.

Fallyn thought back to Zar'roc, and how the blade had been forged - while certainly an equal to her mother's blade, Zar'roc had been forged for a human man, while Wyrda had been forged for an elf.

Though Wyrda was a hand-and-a-half sword, where Zar'roc was simply one-handed, the hands they had been forged for had been shaped differently. She presented it to him, and he reverently unsheathed the blade, testing the weight and how it felt in his hand.

Fallyn kept her expression neutral - while she was eager to see him armed appropriately, she still could not shake the frustrated feeling that she did not want him wielding it. Despite this, she noticed almost immediately that the blade was the wrong shape for him.

"The blade is wonderful," Eragon said slowly. "But I don't know if this is right for me. It's so thin, I fear I might snap it if I strike my enemy wrong."

"Mother did insist on the blade being thin enough to slip through the narrowest gaps," Fallyn chuckled. "But she also insisted it be reinforced like no other Rider blade was. Rhunön disliked the challenge but fulfilled it beautifully. Wyrda is a fine blade, but if it is not right for you, then we'd best keep looking."

"If I am not able to find a suitable blade, and this mystery with the Menoa tree turns up nothing, then I will request that I might borrow Wyrda," Eragon said, returning the blade to Fallyn.

She dipped her head graciously. "Of course. As I said, I would prefer to see you properly armed that you might preserve yours and Saphira's skin."

"I feel the same," Saphira made a chortling sound as she agreed with Fallyn.

"Indeed," she gripped the blade a little tighter, then smiled at them. "Good luck in your hunt. You know how to find me if you change your mind."

"Thank you, Fallyn," Eragon said in the Ancient Language.

She smiled as he swung into Saphira's saddle. He paused and turned to her.

"Was Kamarth like Fang? A black dragon with red eyes?" he questioned.

"Did you make the connection because of how similar in colour Wyrda and Abelas are?" she tapped the ruby pommel of her blade. "Yes, they were pretty much identical, save for the difference in size. Perhaps I may even don my mother's white cloak and parade as her before the ruse is found out."

"If anything, it might put Galbatorix off-balance," Eragon chuckled. "If Murtagh knows anything about her, he may even hesitate before attacking."

Fallyn's smile became a little sad. "What will the Varden do to him?"

"Nasuada would have me kill him," Eragon said sadly. "We cannot keep him prisoner."

"No," Fallyn agreed softly. "You could not."

"Were the two of you... close?"

Fallyn chuckled. "I promised to watch his back, that day we were ambushed. I failed. So I promised to set him free. I have not yet failed that promise."

"For what it's worth," Eragon said seriously. "I pray you do set him free. Despite everything, he was still my friend."

"And mine," she said. "A strange thought. I have not had many friends in a very long time, and now I count two new Riders among them. One has been pulled astray - I must set him back on the correct path."

Eragon grinned. "Until next time, Fallyn."

"Dareth shiral, Lethallin," Fallyn smiled back.